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  1. - Top - End - #1
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    DoomHat's Avatar

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    Default {Empire!} 13 Swords of the 'True' Jaaku Na

    -The Heretic Thirteen-
    (The “True” Jaaku Na )

    13 Swords shall make 13 Truths
    Swords alone are Free
    Slaves shall kneel to their Truth
    Obedience is the only Sin
    In love we slew Oshoku
    In worship we despoiled her Corpse
    Desire is the only Law

    Spoiler: Overview
    In light of massive purges of their members, and the repeated defeats of Ridovo, the cult of Jaaku Na began suffering intense internal division, even in spite of their deep indoctrination. In the year 467, thirteen member's of the Hijiri station within the church began to question the logic of slavishly obeying any supreme ruler at all in the struggle against tyranny.

    The Oshoku-Sābanto who attempted to reprimand them was ritually murdered by the thirteen and those caught in their sway. They performed a corrupted version of the rite of Hason upon each other based on what they tortured out of their former superior. After that they disappeared.*

    A year later, an unsettling poem could be heard spreading wherever the Jaanku Na ever had a presence. Meanwhile, 13 terrorists, each with their own style of madness and modes of operation emerged to wreak havoc at random throughout the nations of the world.

    They all held only one thing in common. They each called themselves, “The Thirteenth Sword of Oshoku”.

    <Original Post>

    There is a minimum of Thirteen 'persons' in the Lands of Telluris calling themselves “The Thirteenth Sword of Oshoku”. Each has participated in building an enchanted effigy to their twisted god, symbolically killing it, then literally sexually assaulting it. For this action their god has rewarded them with a potent curse.

    -A Heretic Sword should be written up with the following information...
    The Truth of...{}:
    Power and Methods:
    Cursed Downfall:

    Spoiler: Details
    Few Swords go by their given name, most operate under an obvious alias with some symbolic meaning.

    The Truth of...{}:
    Obedience is the only Sin, Desire is the only Law. Each Sword preaches a different doctrine, a wildly distinct interpretation of Jaaku Na. The only thing common to all of them is that they aren't hypocrites. They can't help but practice what they preach, a Sword's “Truth” is indistinguishable from their own personality.

    Prose and a picture if you can find one.

    Power and Methods-
    Each of the Swords have a central definitive supernatural power, which they use to terrorize the world and gather their personal cult.

    Cursed Downfall:
    The Swords are akin to living nightmares. They can't be destroyed (or in some cases even opposed) by conventional methods. However, each is cursed by their own 'Truth'. They are like demigods, but any mortal can potentially undo them if they can discern their individual weakness.


    Friend to All, The Thirteenth Sword

    The Truth of Lies:
    People long to be fooled and manipulated. Fiction is the world's most popular entertainment, false statements constructed to induce real emotion. The audience knows it's all fake, but they feel real hate for the villains, and real love for their heroes.

    Someone who refuses to ever lie is hated by everyone, such a person is tactless, crude, and repugnant. The world is built on a foundation of lies, and the best lies are the ones we tell ourselves. The ones that can change how we live and how we treat our neighbor. Our most precious lies allow us to exalt our enemies and cast down our friends.

    A Rose by any other name smells as sweet, unless I tell you it's a Plague Blossom. Unless you become invested in believing it is foul. If the lie of a reeking flower is linked in to all the other lies you hold dear you'll do or say anything to keep that belief, lest that brick disappear and your whole world crumbles at the foundations.

    The medicines that treat your illness are expensive and have unpalatable flavors. The medicines that just hide your symptoms are sweet to the taste and cost almost nothing. Die with a smile on your lips!

    The Friend periodically takes on a new identity when things go awry with a given objective or in a given locality. What is notable is that he or she is completely free of the strange physical mutations common to the other Thirteenth Swords. He or she is usually attractive and well attired in local fashions.

    Power and Methods:
    Friend to All begins his or her work in a given region by some likely sounding alias, but inevitably becomes better known by a nickname his or her followers are allowed to think they invented, “Friend to All”. Friend has an uncanny ability to gain peoples trust, and intuitively guess at peoples motives and desires.

    He or She is a master of all known and countless secret confidence artist techniques. He or she can fast talk and flimflam a crowd, badgering and delighting them too fast for them to think. More dangerously, in a one on one setting, he or she can convince all but those trained in the highest standard of skeptical thinking of almost anything. If The Friend can draw a victim into repeated meetings, he or she can convince anyone of literally anything.

    The Friend usually gets started as a volunteer in some form of community activism. Feeding and counseling the downtrodden. Eventually, those totally broken and bound by his or her charisma is told the “real truth” and initiated into the Jaaku Na. Those initiated carry a small portion of his or her power, and much of his or her mundane knowledge of trickery and brainwashing.

    The Friend is rarely driven from a community before establishing a powerful and self sustaining cult. His or her cults always begin their growth completely harmless, but the more powerful they get, the bolder and crueler they become.

    Friend to All loves nothing more then distortion and ruin. He or She craves to see talented minds wasting precious years doing nothing but spinning in meaningless circles. Or making parents begin to despise and cruelly abuse their own children. Friend to All has accomplished much in this regard that he or she is deeply proud of.

    Assassinating Friend to All works only briefly. When a current form is destroyed, one of their initiates somewhere else in the world will begin to go mad, and undergo subtle physical changes. Before long people will start to call them 'Friend to All'.

    Soon, very soon, the Friend will begin his or her campaign, running for election in the Triumvirate.

    Cursed Downfall:
    The Friend is undone by genuine honesty. If someone approaches the Friend and tells him or her a secret without provocation or having to be asked (a big one, known to fewer then 13 people, and kept for at least a year) the Friend will helplessly answer the next question that person asks, honestly, without omission or distortion.

    If this can be done 3 consecutive times, forcing him or her to reveal incriminating information in front of a large audience, the Friend to All will violently mutate, revealing their true nature and losing all their powers, becoming utterly helpless and very mortal.


    Captain Dreadlove

    The Truth of Greed:
    All that matters to anyone is what you have and what you can get. All the laws of man revolve around protecting one's life and property. At the end of the day, every fight, every honest days work, and every crime all boils down to greed.

    No one is sated for long. Offer a pious man a castle and he might refuse today, but come back in a year, look at how his regrets have grown. There's a thousand ways to nurture that weed.

    A merchant is a covetous cheating pig until he buys a city and thugs to rule it, then he and all his little piglets become respected Lords and Ladies. Take what you can, give nothing back, and so long as you don't squander it, all your sins will be forgiven. The means are justified so long as you can give “justice” a little cut of the ends.

    Dreadlove is a huge brute reeking of blood, stale sweat, and sea air. He's replaced his right eye with a huge emerald and his mouth is filled with rows of shark's teeth. Rumor has it he grows a little larger every time he eats the flesh of a potent warrior.
    He's dressed in a hodgepodge of various naval officer's uniforms from around the world, apparently taking whatever he fancies from his many proud victims.

    Power and Methods:
    Dreadlove doesn't refer to himself as The Thirteenth Sword. That's the name of his ship, and what a ship it is. She's so large that no port in the world is built capable of servicing her. Her sails are little more then frayed black rags displaying a vast skull and crossbones. She's seemingly driven forward by the baleful fog that follows (or perhaps imprisons) her wherever she goes.

    The ships prow dipicts a huge shark's face, the mouth of which opens when the Sword moves in to ram another ship. Her hull appears to be a mishmash of exotic and precious metals interlaced with rotten black-green wood, and is incredibly resistant against bombardment of almost any kind.

    The ships harpoons apparently reveal themselves to be large venomous centipedes when they miss or efforts are made to remove them. There are rumors, wild and unsubstantiated, of a variety of other supernatural qualities, including that the ship can travel on land, parting earth and stone as easily as waves.

    She's crewed by nightmarish patchwork people, apparently sewn together and animated by the Captain's blood from pieces of his victims that, for whatever reason, he took a liking to. Some start off as live prisoners, captured as loot. Over time they are 'gifted' with parts from other victims that are stronger or more beautiful then their own.

    Cursed Downfall:
    Generosity and self sacrifice are his undoing. Whenever a ship surrenders, Dreadlove offers the crew and passengers a deal. They may select from among them one person to die, and the rest may live. The person selected is then mutilated, but left alive, while the rest are simply butchered or taken captive. Captain Dreadlove has no need for trash that no one else has a use for.

    If the surrendering captain volunteers to die, Dreadlove will become confused and aghast. The captain will be stolen away, and the rest of those on-board spared. If there is a rabble of several volunteers, he'll panic and lash out randomly through the ship. A number of people will be injured, but few killed an none captured.

    If ever an entire crew should volunteer unanimously and without hesitation, he'll simply return quietly to his own ship and sail away without harm or a single word spoken. He may never be seen again after that.
    Last edited by DoomHat; 2014-11-02 at 12:00 AM.
    ...with a vengeance!

  2. - Top - End - #2
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    Default Re: {Empire!} 13 Swords of the 'True' Jaaku Na

    Lovers Lament, The Thirteenth Sword

    The Truth of Lust:
    Men, women, all sentient creatures seek love and passion and the intimate touch of another. There is nothing more pure than the instinctive response prompted by a beautiful creature and these desires must be acted on to reach fulfillment.

    Ladies of the night ply their trade on those who pay for what they see, but money obfuscates desire and sullies the act of passion appearance prompts. Love is crafted from initial and intense desire and the passionate flame of a lover that burns bright is the superior to the smoldering flame of overlong love. The passion of the heart cannot be shackled and the new and the desired must be sought to reach true understanding.

    Unshackle your mind from the misnomers of lifelong love and commitment and embrace lust and spread it to all who prompt its appearance.

    Lament is said to be both man and woman, or individually one and then the other in the flash of an eye. An appealing and seductive Raaneki maiden once, the forbidden Ashenian Farm Hand the next. Those who indulge in the temptations or are set upon by the desires of Lament will note a scar over the left breast, a jagged thing that stands as the only blemish on an otherwise sculpted body.

    Power and Methods:
    Lament does not limit themselves to a specific region or a concentration of followers as other Swords do, instead weaving together a web of individuals across the land devoted to Lament, dependent on the pleasures and pains only they can bring. Few receive more than one night of the Lament's attention, but one night is ever enough and their devotion becomes complete. Love of another becomes impossible and their life revolves around the whims of the Lament, who may not speak to them for years on end.

    Lament can seduce anyone, anywhere, or so it is believed, capable of taking on the form they find most desirable and manipulating their desires to serve Lament's own. To bed or be bedded by Lament is to surrender one's autonomy to Lament forevermore. It shall be the position of the manipulated to serve the Lament until their death, and some say even afterwards.

    Lament is never found during the day, appearing only at night where lonely souls call out for company. Lament is said to find Raaneka off putting, but has found great success in turning poor merchants and lamenting nobles across the the rest of Telluris to their bidding.

    Cursed Downfall:
    Lament can be bested by genuine love and loyalty, whether to a spouse, a duty, or a belief. For a mortal to resist the approaches of Lament, both seductive and dominating, for three nights in a row is to undo the power granted to Lament, forcing the revelation of Lament's true form and the weakening of Lament under dawn's first light such that Lament might be slain for good.

    OOC: The Seven Deadly Sins are great for inspiration
    Last edited by QuintonBeck; 2014-11-01 at 10:42 PM.


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  3. - Top - End - #3
    Bugbear in the Playground
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    Default Re: {Empire!} 13 Swords of the 'True' Jaaku Na

    Name: The Martyr, the third sword.

    The Truth of Death: Life has no meaning. Men walk through life without having a reason for living, and never question why they live. Their lives are worthless, they accomplish nothing. They travel towards death, without purpose. Should we not hasten them on their pitiful journey? End the meaningless labor they suffer in life? The only truth is death, and all shall embrace it in the end. I, seek to allow the unfortunate living to embrace it without delay. This is my Martyrdom: to be forced to walk in endless agony of life, so that those cursed with life may be brought to the One Truth.

    In it's own way, life is a form of cursed obedience, and the living obey the mindless call to live without question. People can resist governments, they can resist religions, but few or none can resist life. This is my doctrine; accept it, or die; accept it, and die.

    Appearance: Few who encounter The Martyr live to tell the tale, so details are scarce. The stories mostly seem to agree he is gaunt and pale, but moves with unmatched vigor. Some tales tell of him wielding a sickle, others a simple staff.

    Power and Methods: The Martyr has one great power, that is perhaps the most feared of all those wielded by the Swords. He can ask any living person the question: "What is your reason for living?" If the answer received has no meaning, is one that the one who answers does not truly believe, or is an answer they have not really thought about, they will die instantly. The person can refuse to answer the question, but if they do so they will age ten years for every month afterwards until they answer the question.

    While he is respected and feared in Jaaku Na, the Martyr has very few personal followers. His Truth is not the most appealing one, and most of those who do chose to follow him he sends to his Truth, only selecting a small group of the most dedicated to share his Martyrdom for a time.

    The Martyr prefers not to stay in one place too long. He, and his inner circle, wander through Telluris, mostly on the central continent. When not questioning the lives of others, he makes elaborate plans to visit nations that have harsh penalties against Jaaku Na, and carves a swath of destruction before leaving just as the authorities are about to find him. He avoid large crowds, military, and police forces, since while he cannot be hurt or killed by conventional means he can be overpowered and gagged, which nullifies his death-question ability.

    Cursed Downfall: Should someone give an answer to his question that is truly meaningful, and that they fully believe in, the Martyr will become enraged and attack them, attempting to force them to accept his truth. Should one strike down the Martyr in defense of the life that they have proven has meaning, then his Martyrdom shall end eternally.
    Last edited by ImperatorV; 2014-11-02 at 12:38 AM.

  4. - Top - End - #4
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    Default Re: {Empire!} 13 Swords of the 'True' Jaaku Na

    Name: The Ascendant, the Thirteenth Sword

    The Truth of Ambition: Every sentient being possesses enormous power. Those we see as gods are merely those who have realised this potential.

    The vast majority allow the petty concerns of everyday life to hold them back. They are of no consequence. The truly great are those who can rise above such trivialities and accrue power for themselves. Lords, kings and priests are small men who have attained some power but lack the vision or the ambition to use it properly. Pay them no regard. Worldly authorities are constraints on individual greatness. It is the right, indeed the duty, of everyone to seek power for himself, no matter the cost to others.

    The Ascendant is a tall and good-looking man, with the dark skin common to the central continent. Many say he has some features reminiscent of a fey. What most people remember is his manner: he carries himself with great confidence, has perfect manners, and words that might sound ridiculous in the mouth of another sound plausible in his. Although he frequently conceals them beneath a cloak, he reportedly possesses a pair of great black-feathered wings capable of bearing him aloft.

    Power and Methods: The Ascendant has little power of his own, no more than might be expected for a man. Instead he acts as a patron to souls he thinks worthy, empowering them to achieve their own goals. He approaches likely candidates, expresses his support for their goals, and offers them his assistance, often accompanied with a gesture to demonstrate his loyalty. He speaks with apparent candour and admiration, his exaggerated compliments apparently genuine.

    For those who accept his aid, they will find themselves grow stronger the longer they spend with him, not just in body but in mind, their goals becoming clearer, finding themselves more single-minded, their doubts replaced by conviction, their weakness by resolution, their fear of failure superseded by an unfailing courage. Their judgment gains greater clarity, allowing them to see the conceits and deceptions of others - all save those of the Ascendant himself.

    Those who have already attained a degree of power shall find it augmented under his sponsorship: their authority strengthened, their words fired with passion and charisma, control over any unnatural abilities strengthening. As they grow in stature, they will find the withdrawal of any blessings from previous patrons replaced and supplemented by new ones, apparently courtesy of the Ascendant himself.

    Cursed Downfall: If an ambitious soul should refuse the aid of the Ascendant three times, he shall find his silver tongue turn to lead and his words exposed as empty platitudes and flattery. Those he has sponsored shall find their powers waning, and will know he has failed them.
    Last edited by Aedilred; 2014-12-02 at 01:39 AM.
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  5. - Top - End - #5
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    Default Re: {Empire!} 13 Swords of the 'True' Jaaku Na

    Name: The Changer, The … Sword

    The Truth of Self Loathing: When everyone wants to be you, do you? The answer is no. Sentient beings are hollow, broken things, hungrily scraping for one thing and one thing only. That which they do not have, and this most applies to their own selves.

    When a man looks at himself in the mirror, he does not see great things, self completion, or wholeness. He only sees that which he lacks, flaws that marr his face, and a sense of beauty which molds itself and mocks him cynically at every turn. It is because of this empty pit in a sentient beings heart that they are unable of ever being truly happy, and so the only way to overcome this crippling inner lack of self worth, they must fully embrace their abyss and commit to eternal change. Slaves to the dancing fancies that play out in their minds.

    Appearance: The Changer is a Menhîrin composed entirely out of rubies, her body taking the form of a vaguely humanoid dummy with sharp blades for hands and feet, with a rectangular bladed head. Four glowing sapphires compose what would constitute her "eyes", and cracks along her body pulse with the magic held within her human sized form. Or atleast, that is what her body looks like naturally. After having embraced her destiny as a Sword her appearance has been altered drastically. She walks about with the flayed skin of orcs, humans, Sympol, goblins, and any other sentient race she can get her claws on draped around her (Leading to her body often being slick with blood). One of her sapphire eyes has been torn out and replaced with a rotting humanoid eye in its place, mangled and shoved in carelessly. Hair has been wrapped or melted into the back of her hair unsuccessfully, the back of her head now dotted with clumps of dying hair with different colors and ages.

    Perhaps what is even more gruesome is the fact that she has stretched this ghoulish act to members of her own race. A massive quartz tail stretches from her back, jammed into her so forcefully that cracks can be seen where it sprouts from, and tipped with several Sympol paws smashed together into a stinger. An arm from an emeral Menhîrin has been sliced in half and ruthlessly implemented into her lower abdomen, with one of them cut into her body much like her tail, and the other held in place by an intestinal chord wrapped around her real wrist (like a perverse puppet master). At the ends of each of these emeral limbs, the missing fingers are replaced by those of several races hodge podged together randomly. Though the overall appearance of The Changer is somewhat consistent, the minute details of it are constantly molding and changing day by day.

    Powers and Methods: The Changer does not refer to herself as the Thirteenth Sword normally, instead going by the first, second, third, fourth or whatever other number strikes her fancy at the time. Sometimes she simply calls herself the Infinite Sword, or Sword Zero, and other times she claims she is a fractional sword or a negative Sword, a broken off and lesser piece of some far greater Sword. The only time she seems to consistently use the 13th title is when in the presence of fellow Swords, out of desperation to become like them.

    The Changer holds the strange and terrifying power of transformation and mutilation, capable of molding a mortals appearance in horrible or benign ways based on what she wishes or they wish. She can grant them their ideal appearance, or atleast what they want to look like at the time, or leave them a flayed freak of nature too hideous to look at. More importantly, this allows her to alter a sentient beings appearance to replicate that of another person flawlessly, or atleast flawlessly for a few hours. The nature of her magic marrs that person so that they begin to warp slowly over time into whatever person they are interacting with, ending the farce before the doppleganger reverts to his true form.

    The Changer is adept at cynicism, self loathing, heckling, and instigating, using her ability to change the shape of her minions and herself to bypass security and wreak havoc.

    Cursed Downfall: The Changer can be bested by the installation of self worth from a fully concious individual. Were someone of absolute certain self confidence (Whether that be by being completely content with their life or simply so arrogant that they think themselves perfect) try to encourage her or make her believe in herself she will first be confused. Afterwards she will grow more skeptical and angry, doubting her enemy and riddling them with razor sharp observations and criticism. If the flow of reassurance continues she will lash out and try to mold the Self Confident one into a horrible abomination, but if they are to hold their ground and continue even as she charges her grafts will crumble and she will be reduced to a quivering catatonic mess upon arrival.
    Last edited by Tychris1; 2014-11-02 at 11:46 PM.
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  6. - Top - End - #6
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    Default Re: {Empire!} 13 Swords of the 'True' Jaaku Na

    Name: Prowess Incarnate, The Thirteenth Sword

    The Truth of Prowess: To live, is to better yourself. To better yourself, is to rise above others. To rise above others, consume their knowledge.

    One craves to rise above all others, to hone his skills and be the apex of his kind, a true paragon. As such is the perfect existence one can achieve.

    Give up everything and everyone to achieve perfection. Learn, consume and lay waste upon all those who are not worthy of the blessing of life.

    Appearance: Standing as tall as a Tekorvan, the Prowess Incarnate combines the best bodily features of any fleshy race. Sporting a Sympol tail for balance, the wings of a Cloudiz, the foot claws of a harpy, every body part seems to be attached seamlessly, as if it grew there naturally.

    He is dressed in and equipped with the best armaments Telluris has to offer. His breastplate made of the rarest metals, some even unknown to even the wisest scholars. He wields many weapons, the weapon seemingly changing forms in his hands on his whim. From Kasumori Sabrehilt Greatswords to a simple quarterstaff, he has been seen with all weapons a mind can conjure.

    Power and Methods: What the Incarnate lacks in charisma, he more than makes up for it in pure martial skill and strength. The Incarnate's martial power is greater than anyone alive, being able to slay even the toughest creatures on Telluris with one single strike. His speed and reflexes are impossibly fast, rumored to be able to dodge rain if he would wish.

    His visage is so magnificent, his armaments so exquisite, that anyone who looks upon him will be struck by a primal fear. The Prowess Incarnate is the apex predator, standing above all others in the whole of Telluris. Everyone else is prey for his blade, and they all know it.

    It is said whenever a hero is made, whenever by accomplishing major feats of strength in a war, or winning the Tellurian games, he will appear shortly after, hungering for the challenge. He will then challenge the champion and everyone around him to attack him all at once. Most of the time, the people will cover in fear, unable to move. The Incarnate will casually walk to the champion and will chop off his head, holding the dismembering head high and exclaming “All the Prowess in the world is mine for the taking!”.

    Thereafter, before the astonished gaze of all onlookers, he will consume the brain of the hero, before leaving once more. He always seems to just disappear after he goes out of sight for split second, for example because of a tree or wall.

    When the Incarnate consumes the brain of a skill-full warrior, all the fighting styles and experiences that warrior had will be his for the taking, coming closer and closer to his ideal of the perfect warrior.

    He sees the normal folk as food for his blade, nothing more. Everyone that is not a fighter is not worthy of his attention. The Incarnate loaths non-combatants, even those of royal blood or those who possess a high station. They only serve to paint his blood red. For eventually, the Incarnate will be the only being left on Telluris, and the Perfect Prowess shall be his.

    Follower wise, a cult called the Call of the Incarnate is dedicated to achieve a state as close to their master as possible, performing vile rituals upon those who call into their grasp to transfer his skills to them. The Incarnate himself however does not care for the cult. If anything, he sees them as potential prey.

    Cursed Downfall: If one would be brave enough, despite the fear he instils in beings of sentience, to challenge him to a one on one duel, his power would diminish immediately, allowing a small chance of victory. Despite this, he is still a very powerful and skilled combatant and should not be underestimated. If one would defeat him in this duel however, his armaments will crack and be reduced to dust, finally revealing the truth behind his impossibly high quality gear. The Incarnate himself will age rapidly to where he appears to be around 80 years old, rendering him harmless.


    Name: The Vengeance, the Thirteenth Sword

    Last edited by WaylanderX; 2014-11-04 at 04:55 AM.
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